


When All is Said and Done, I'll Still Want You

by andromedablacc (TheLittleGreenTypewriter)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Established Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Porn with Feelings, Sirius Potter - Freeform - Freeform, Unhappy Ending, both both and present, due to one person being drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-02-16 16:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18694933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleGreenTypewriter/pseuds/andromedablacc
Summary: Then, Now, ForeverDumbledore forces James and Lily to fake a marriage, despite the fact that James is already married to Sirius. James remembers his real wedding day, and thinks of his hopes for the future.





	1. Now

**Author's Note:**

> The mild dub/con (due to Sirius being drunk and James being sober) and the alcoholism warnings are both for this chapter, and don't apply to the other two. Also not really any fluff in this chapter.

The day is bright and warm, sunshine pouring in through the windows on all sides. The guests in their seats, all one hundred of them, are talking happily to each other, about how beautiful a day it is, how handsome James looks, how lovely Lily will look in all that white with her red hair and pale skin. Not one questions the glass of champagne in the groom’s tight grasp, his knuckles showing white through his dark skin. It is common for the bride and groom to have a little drink before the ceremony, to still the nerves.

James hadn’t had champagne at his wedding - his real wedding, not this atrocity Dumbledore had insisted on - so it made sense that he would be drinking it now, he thinks. This wasn’t a real wedding, not a real marriage, it shouldn’t look like the one he had to pretend didn’t exist with the man now acting as his best man. He hopes he just looks nervous for a day he’d been waiting months for, rather than completely heartbroken, which is what he actually feels. All these people will look back in a few years and remember this wedding for how pretty it was, and none will know James had spent the morning sobbing into his best man’s chest when he removed his real wedding ring for the final time.

His best man looks unruffled, there’s no sign of the tears James cried onto him just hours before, not even a smudge from his own. He laughs at the grip he has on his glass and takes it from him, draining the rest of the liquid himself. James knows he’s had most of a bottle to himself already, can smell it on him, and his heart breaks even further. He’s been so good for so long, fighting against the desire to drink and drink and drink until he barely wanted it at all, but this has broken him, smashed him to pieces all over again. Why Dumbledore thought this was a good idea, James still has no idea, they could’ve just said they were married, had eloped, instead of this farcical thing. The anger he feels towards the old man hasn’t got a patch on the anger he feels towards himself, not when the music starts and the doors open and Sirius’s perfect mask falls for one split second and he looks like he wishes he were dead.

James wants to kiss him and hold him and tell him everything will be alright, like Sirius had for him that morning. He can’t though, instead all he can do is squeeze his hand tightly in his once before he lets him go and turns to face his false bride. Lily does look beautiful, as beautiful as James has ever seen her, her mask of joy much better than his own, and he hopes people think its her beauty that causes the handful of tears to fall from his eyes and not the way Sirius had clung onto him for that brief touch.

The ceremony is long and drawn out, their vows take an eternity. James forces a smile throughout the whole thing that seems to be well received and Lily fakes happiness so well for a brief moment James thinks she really is joyful. He only notices the split-second slip in her mask because he’s staring right at her, yet when she glances to Sirius at his side, she looks as tired and empty as he’s ever seen her. As soon as her eyes move away - never to his, they rest on his chin mostly, they can’t do this eye to eye – she’s beaming again, like this is the best day of her life. He doesn’t dare look at his husband himself, can’t chance that when he knows any shift in Sirius’s pleased, proud expression might break him entirely.

Eventually its over and they’re walking out hand in hand like the newlyweds they might have been, had their lives been different. Back when they were planning the whole thing, Lily had insisted they do the muggle tradition of having wedding party take a car to the reception venue rather than taking the floo. She’d insisted they’d need a rest between, and James had never been gladder for her stubbornness. As soon as the car moves away, he is pressed as close as he could be to Sirius, Lily doing the same with Marlene.

Sirius’s left hand finds his right, sliding their fingers together and ignoring Sirius own missing wedding band. James presses a hand to his mouth to stifle a sob as his shoulders shake with unshed tears.

“I love you,” Sirius whispers to him, leaning forward so his mouth is at James ear. He sounds as broken as James feels. “I love you, I love you, I love you. This doesn’t matter, I’ll always love you.”

That does it, and he’s sobbing into Sirius’s chest for the second time that day. Sirius holds him tight, brushes a hand through his hair, hushes him like he’s a small child. He feels like one, he knows he should be the one comforting Sirius, James isn’t the one who’s just had to watch his husband pronounce his love of someone else to the whole world, had to marry someone else. It’s one of the reasons it had to be James that did it, James couldn’t have stood there and let his husband marry another.

In Sirius’s arms, he begins to calm again. By the time he’s stepping out of the car, Lily’s hand where Sirius’s was, he feels he can do this again, for a few more hours.

* * *

Old Mrs. Bretton’s hand feels frail and brittle in his as he bends to kiss her cheek. She blushes, a strange looking thing on her withered face, and if he were in an even slightly better mood, he would’ve been amused by it. But he wasn’t, so instead it just annoyed him.

“Thank you for coming,” he says loudly, because she’s been deaf for as long as he’s known her.

“Thank you for inviting me dear boy, your mother would’ve been so proud.” James doesn’t agree, he thinks she would’ve been quite disappointed in him actually. For the first time in his life, he was glad Euphemia wasn’t here to witness this, not after she’d cried tears of joy at his wedding to Sirius.

Mrs. Bretton moved on to Lily, and Elspeth Lovelace appeared, even smaller and fine boned that Mrs. Bretton, yet James had memories as far back as he could remember of Elsie being as strong as an ox and just as stern. He can’t help the rush of affection for his mother’s best friend as she hugs him and pulls his head down so her lips are at his ear.

“You tell that gorgeous husband of yours how much you love him, all right? He’s going to need it.”

“I will Elsie.” He hadn’t forgotten that Elspeth had been at his and Sirius’s wedding, but her mind wasn’t what it was, and he’d assumed she had.

“You do love him still?”

“Forever.”

She lets him go at that and wipes away the tear that was threatening to fall from his lashes. “Good boy.”

He needs a break, and he needs to see Sirius. He tells Lily he’s going to get a drink, presses a kiss to her cheek for show, and in truth, because he does love her, just not like this, and moves away from the queue of people waiting to congratulate him. It takes a while to get across to the bar, everybody wants to talk to him, but finally he finds Sirius there, drinking something that’s a lot stronger than champagne, by the smell of it. He orders the same for himself without looking in his husband’s face and drinks the glass of firewhisky in one go, relishing the burn down his throat as a break from the burn behind his eyes.

“I don’t actually think I’ve congratulated you,” Sirius says steadily, and James knows he’s drunk from the bitterness in his voice. “Should I join the queue?”

James doesn’t answer, just takes his wrist and leads him out, up the stairs to the honeymoon suite James has booked, technically for him and Lily. There are red roses on the sideboard and another bottle of champagne accompanied by two glasses on the dresser. He ignores both and places both his hands on his husband’s hips. Reluctantly, Sirius comes to him and when they’re standing nose to nose, James moves his hands to cup his favourite face. Sirius doesn’t meet his eyes.

“You’re my best friend, the love of my life, my soulmate.” The words are part of the vows he made when he married Sirius and he means them as much now as he did then. Sirius knows this, his bottom lip quivers and he bites it to stop it. James just wants to kiss him. “I will love you until the day I die and eternally after. I will never love another. I’m yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”

Sirius leans forward, nuzzles their noses together, cheeks wet with tears. James thinks he’ll kiss him for the first time in days, but he stops just short. His eyes finally flick up to James’s.

“I want you now.” He says it like it’s a challenge, as if it could ever be.

Every single one of the guests downstairs could’ve walked in that second, and it wouldn’t have stopped James from kissing him. Sirius gasps into his mouth, a wet, broken sound, and kisses him back, hard and relentless, the knife’s edge of desperation cutting them both. James feels one of Sirius’s hands tangle in his hair as the other goes around his back, pressing him closer. He gives in easily, steps as close to Sirius as he can, feels him getting hard already. They shouldn’t do this, they really shouldn’t, because Sirius is drunk, and somebody really could walk through that door at any moment. There’s no way in hell he’s refusing Sirius this though, not today, not when he’s breaking apart under James’s hands.

Without breaking apart, James walks them towards the enormous bed, encouraging Sirius to lie back when the backs of his knees hit the frame. He follows immediately, straddling Sirius’s hips and leaning on one hand, the other still holding Sirius’s face. The heat of his own arousal means nothing to him, nothing compared to the need to reaffirm himself as Sirius’s. How could all those people at the wedding think he would marry Lily, when he so clearly belongs heart and body and soul, to Sirius? How can they not see the way its written all over his skin, in ink and the memory of Sirius’s love?

He moves his mouth to kiss down Sirius throat. Sirius gasps again, so vulnerable, so unlike the noises he normally makes, and grasps at his head, keeping him close. James hands make quick work of the buttons on both his robes then Sirius’s, breaking away from his husband only to strip it off himself and lift Sirius out of his. Then they’re chest to chest, skin on skin, and kissing like they will never get to kiss again. A tiny, monstrous voice in the back of James’s mind tells him they never will.

Any thoughts of anything but this very moment slide from his mind completely when Sirius rolls his hips up, slow and dirty, pressing their erections together through their clothes. He mimics the movement, grinding them together, and revels in the low, familiar moan Sirius lets out as a result.

“You or me?” James breathes into his chest before placing a wet open-mouthed kiss to the centre of Sirius’s sternum where his Gryffindor lion tattoo is.

“Me,” Sirius says. And then, “Only ever me.”

He knows that means something else. “Only you sweetheart. Only you, forever.”

Its quick after that; James gets his trousers and pants off, then Sirius’s and within moments he’s got a lube slick finger circling Sirius’s hole. He presses fluttering kisses along Sirius’s collarbones and feels his intake of breath more than hears it when he pushes his finger in. Immediately, Sirius is pushing back, his body asking for more. James doesn’t give him it yet and gives his hard cock a few slow strokes to distract him. He arches into that too but reaches for his hand to draw it away.

James takes his hand and kisses the palm, holding it to his cheek as he withdraws his finger from Sirius and presses back in with two, spreading them to stretch him before curling them inwards. He does that for a while, silent, watching Sirius’s face as it slackens with pleasure, all the lines of stress that had appeared over the course of the day easing away under James’s touch. He smiles at that, the first genuine one in days and kisses the inside of Sirius’s thigh.

“I love you,” he tells him as he moves to slick up his cock. “I’ll always want you.”

“I love you.”

He slides into Sirius then, slick and easy and perfect, and shifts to stretch out over him, holding himself up on his elbows. Sirius hands pull him down onto him entirely, his mouth kissing up his jaw until he finds his lips.

Even now, when James feels like the world might fall apart as soon as they break apart, sex with Sirius is amazing. He’s tight and hot and slick, and he moves his hips in time with James’s to hit that perfect angle, the one that has Sirius moaning his name loud enough the wedding guests might hear. James almost wishes they would.

It doesn’t last long, he had known it wouldn’t. They’ve only been at it a few minutes when Sirius reaches for his own cock, his muscles tightening around James, gets a couple of strokes in before James takes over, his hand stroking Sirius just the way he knows he likes it. James feels the heat in his belly tightening and starts thrusting harder, the rhythm growing erratic.

“Jamie,” Sirius breaths. “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie.” And he comes, hard, all over James’s hand and their stomachs.

James presses their mouths together as he moans Sirius’s name, nearly a kiss, and comes to the sound of his name on Sirius’s lips.

* * *

More guests than James had expected have left by the time he returns to the main room, probably less than the original hundred remaining. He’s less concerned about that than he probably should be, instead he makes sure Sirius is going to drink several glasses of water and that neither of them feel like breaking apart. They spent a good long while after they’d had sex just cuddling and talking, they’ve managed to put themselves back together that they’ll survive the night apart, and possibly the months to come. The thought of being separated from Sirius for weeks at a time has a sharp knife of pain slicing through James for a moment; he forces the thought away and returns to Lily.

She looks angry at first, they were upstairs for over an hour, perhaps somebody said something, and it only seems to get worse when he sits at her side at a table with Remus and Marlene.

“I’ve had to tell everyone Sirius had too much to drink and you had to look after him, and here the two of you are swanning in smelling of sex.” She gives him a look that would kill lesser men, but James really doesn’t care. It’s not like her to react like this, Lily is asexual and has no desire for a relationship with anybody, she was just as angry about this whole thing as James.

“I _was_ looking after Sirius,” he says pointedly. “Its not exactly been a great day for him.”

“It’s not been a barrel of laughs for me either.” Her expression softens though and softens further when Sirius comes to sit beside him.

There’s something about Sirius, James has long since realised, that draws women to him. At first its his stunningly good looks, the charm, the way he’ll smile as he helps you with anything you ask of him, but it always turns into something else, there’s something about him when you get under his hard outer shell and into the soft boy beneath. It’s then they realise he’s never going to love him, and that they love him anyway.

Lily and Marlene don’t look at him like that, neither does McGonagall, or James’s mum, when she was around, and its why he likes them so much. He smiles at Lily, eyes wide and apologetic and still deeply pained. He doesn’t have to say sorry in the way James perhaps should have, yet he means it more than he would have anyway. Lily rolls her eyes, a little smile on her lips, and all is forgiven without a word being spoken. He still reaches for James’s hand under the table and grips it tight.

More people come to say congratulations again and goodbye, but there’s not the queue there was earlier, and James gets to keep holding onto Sirius hand like a lifeline. Some ask if Sirius is feeling better, some jokingly degrade James for abandoning his _new_ _wife_ for so long, remind him he’s not a bachelor anymore, some simply thank them and go. He likes those last ones best.

McGonagall is one of the last people to leave, which surprises James; she knows this whole thing is a lie, and she’d been their only advocate for how bad an idea it was. When she arrives at their table, she doesn’t smile, or congratulate them.

“I’m pleased to see you are feeling better,” she says to Sirius, and they all know she’s not referring to the alcohol. She looks at all three of them, sorrow in her green eyes in a way he hasn’t seen in years, he’d thought the war had stopped it, there was only so much sorrow a person could feel. “You deserve better than this.”

“Thank you,” Lily says in the same voice she’s thanked everybody else in, and for the first time that night, James knows she means it.


	2. Then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of the previous chapter's warnings apply for this one, its basically fluff, smut, and fluffy smut.

No light made its way around the heavy curtains at the window, charmed as they were to prevent it, the bedroom shrouded in absolute darkness. No sound broke the silence bar the soft, deep breaths of sleeping people, not loud enough to disturb even a mouse, and so familiar they wouldn’t have woken James anyway after seven years spent sharing a dormitory. There was nothing and no one that should have kept him from sleeping.

None of that mattered; he was away from Sirius, and so he was awake.

James couldn’t remember the last time he and Sirius had chosen to spend the night apart; he didn’t think they ever had. Not as friends, not as boyfriends, and certainly not since their engagement. Yet there he was, sharing his bed with Remus, Peter curled up at their feet like when they were children all huddled into one bed in their dormitory, with Sirius hundreds of miles away, alone in his childhood bedroom at the Potter Manse.

Everyone except James parents, who knew better than to suggest they spend any real time apart, had said they should spend the night before their wedding separated, for nonsense reasons like tradition and luck, that Sirius had never cared about before, but had suddenly decided where important. So with a couple of goodnight kisses, or maybe a dozen, Sirius had apparated away to the house James had grown up in, and left him here, feeling bereft, with Remus and Peter.

What he would bet Sirius hadn’t expected, because he certainly hadn’t, was the questioning from his best mates.

“We know you love him,” Peter had said, glancing at Remus, which meant they had discussed this, despite the way Remus was looking at Peter like he was making a grave mistake. “But do you really want to be with him _forever_? Not just ten years, James, more like eighty. Until you die.”

“Yes,” James had told him plainly, hurt and surprised they were asking this. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted to marry Sirius, he never would. He fantasised about it, dreamed about it, he couldn’t wait until he could wake up one day next to Sirius Potter.

“And you’re completely sure?” Peter still sounded doubtful. Merlin’s beard, James just really wanted his Sirius.

“We have talked about this. About how you wouldn’t question me about my relationship with Sirius,” he reminded them, irritation colouring his voice. Remus and Peter had always been wary of them together, wary of Sirius’s instability, of James’s teenhood megalomania, and they have asked him if he’s sure about Sirius more times than he could count. It got boring after the second time, and he wouldn’t have it again. “My relationship with Sirius is not up for questioning. I love him, he loves me, we could never hurt each other purposely.”

“Not on purpose-”

“Enough, Peter.” Remus sounded as stern as James, which he didn’t think was entirely fair since he clearly shared Peter’s view. “James, I’m sorry.”

Ever the rat, Peter squeaked out an apology, less sincere than Remus but James forgave him anyway.

James had no doubts whatsoever about Sirius, he never had, and it wasn’t nerves that kept him awake. He rummaged about on his bedside table, as quietly as he could as not to disturb his temporary bedmates, for his wand and cast a spell to tell the time. The tiny specks of magic formed the numbers 02:17. Irritation at himself washed through James and he flopped back onto his bed with a surprisingly loud huff.

“Go to sleep James,” Remus told him, voice so groggy James could only make him out with years of practise. “You’ll be with him in the morning.”

“Sorry for waking you.” He made no promises but stayed still as Remus nodded drowsily and promptly fell back to sleep.

He did try to get some sleep after that, singing himself a lullaby he remembered from childhood in his head, even going as far as to try counting sheep, like he’d heard to muggles did, yet sleep evaded him still, wrapped up wherever Sirius was. He cast the time spell again what felt like hours later only to find less than half an hour had passed. This was utterly pointless, he decided, and as quietly and gently as he could slid his glasses on, slipped out of bed and into the kitchen, closing the door tight behind him.

He turned the light on with a wordless flick of his wand and pulled out his mirror.

“Sirius,” he called, quiet enough not to wake the other man if he was sleeping. Barely a second went by before the image of his face distorted, twisting and twisting until it was Sirius’s face staring back at him, looking like he hadn’t slept a wink either. Something tight in James’s chest released at seeing him and he couldn’t help the smile that curled his lips.

“Hey,” he said. “You can’t sleep either?”

Sirius shook his head, silky black hair falling out of whatever tie it was in and falling across his face. “I thought you would.”

“Not without you.”

The soft, warm smile Sirius gave him always serviced to remind James of how much Sirius loved him, on the rare occasions he forgot.

“We’re getting married today.” It seemed both impossible and inevitable, and James couldn’t wait.

“Getting cold feet Potter?”

James snorted. “About marrying you, future Mr. Potter? Never.”

The other man grinned at him, mirroring is own expression, and moved. James watched as the scene the mirror showed him changed and then returned to its original position. “Mum and dad are asleep. Come get me?”

“Yeah,” James said and stopped the connection. He checked back in the bedroom to find both its occupants still fast asleep and scrawled a message saying here he was going. Switching the light back off, he apparated straight into Sirius’s old bedroom at the Potter Manse.

The room was nearly as dark as their bedroom at home, so dark that the kiss Sirius’s gave him missed his mouth entirely and instead pressed it onto his nose. They both let out girlish giggles, clinging to each other as they tried not to break out into full blown laughter, a release of tension neither had noticed building. Eventually, they stopped laughing enough that Sirius managed to give him a real kiss, sweet and chaste, to his lips.

“Get in my bed and let me sleep,” he demanded, taking James’s hand and leading him to the bed. It was a single, built for a lanky teenager who needed a home, not two fully grown men, yet pressed together, they fit on it perfectly. Sirius tucked his knees in behind James and wrapped an arm around his torso so they lay back to chest, not an inch between them.

Safe in the arms of the man he loved, James had no issue falling asleep.

* * *

Euphemia smiled smugly to herself as they descended the stairs together that morning, hand in hand, and shared a knowing look with Fleamont, who grinned at the pair.

“Good morning boys,” he said, sipping his coffee, “Sleep alright?”

“Eventually,” Sirius said, sliding into a chair at the kitchen table just as Euphemia placed a plate full of French toast down in front of him.

“Took a while,” James agreed and grinned when both his parents laughed. He sat down in the empty seat beside Sirius and thanked his mum when she handed him his breakfast, suddenly overcome with a strong sense of nostalgia. This moment could be the same as any other morning they’d spent eating breakfast at his parents kitchen table after sneaking around in the night; at twelve, newly minted best friends; at fifteen and freshly in love; at eighteen the day after they moved out; here again at twenty on the verge of marriage.

“You would’ve had more space in your own flat you know,” Euphemia told them as she sat down herself. “Wouldn’t have had to cram into that tiny bed.”

James shrugged and moved his chair closer to Sirius’s so they brushed shoulders when they moved. “Our bed was otherwise occupied.”

Sirius leaned into James, resting most of his weight against him. “And we like being crammed together.”

After breakfast was finished, Euphemia announced she would go to their flat and get James’s things, since he was clearly going to getting ready at the Manse. She shot her husband a pointed look and after a few amusing moments where he stared back at her blankly, he cleared his throat and announced he would be taking a leisurely walk around the grounds.

When they were both gone, Sirius laughed as he leaned his head on James’s shoulder. “I think your mum just told us we’ve got time for a shag.”

“I think so,” James said with a grin, though Sirius couldn’t have seen it from where his face was hidden in James’s neck. He titled Sirius head back to face him and was suddenly breathless at how pretty Sirius was, happy and warm and cuddly in the bright late morning sunlight. His quicksilver eyes were as gentle as they ever got as they gazed back at James’s, full of love and a soft sort of happiness.

“You’re so pretty,” James told him, barely a whisper, drunk of how much he loved him.

Sirius sat up a bit to look at him properly, reaching out with one hand to tangle in James’s hair. “ _You’re_ so pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you.” He leaned in closer to Sirius so they were sharing the same breaths. In out, in out, in out.

Sirius nudged their noses together, mouths just millimetres apart. He made a humming noise, the sound vibrating to air on James’s lips.

“Just kiss me.”

They moved in sync, closing the minute distance between them until they were mouth to mouth, kissing as sickly sweet and slow as treacle.

They didn’t make it to their bedroom, or even upstairs. In truth, they didn’t even try. The orangery was next to the kitchen, cooler than the rest of the house with all its windows open, and looked out into the pretty walled garden, not the rest of the grounds where Fleamont might see them. It had been their favourite place to mess around when they’d still been at home and James’s parents were away, bright and airy and full of the smell of flowers.

Sirius kissed him easily, all unhurried, as he lay him onto his back, sinking into the soft sheepskin rug on the floor. Slow, lazy sex was always James’s favourite, and that was clearly what he was getting as Sirius sat back from him, kneeling between his spread thighs, both still fully dressed. Arousal bubbled in James’s core, he could feel his erection beginning to press against his pyjama bottoms, could see the evidence of Sirius’s, yet neither of them felt rushed to do anything about it, both content to just take their time as they took each other apart. Sirius ran his hands over James’s clothed thighs, bypassing his clearly interested cock in favour of sliding his hands up his chest, bunching his shirt up as he did it. James grasped at his hair as he bent to lean over him, licking a long, hot stripe from the waistband of his bottoms up his stomach up to one nipple, then the other, leaving James gasping as he bit at it. Sirius smirked against his skin and laved his tongue over the offended nipple, soothing it.

When his affections reached the bottom of James’s shirt, he pulled off the material, pausing to pull his own off before descending back to kiss James. James moaned low in his throat as Sirius slipped his tongue into his mouth, slowly caressing his own as James reached to run his hands over Sirius’s back. His fingertips traced the scars that crisscrossed his back, a painting in pale brown and silver for the family he once had, a painful tribute more honest than the family tree at Grimmauld Place. He slid his hands further south as Sirius continued kissing him, leaning on one forearm and using the other to cup James’s face, until they reached his perfect arse. He rolled his hips up as he grasped it and pulled it down simultaneously, causing Sirius to groan into his mouth.

Sirius sat up again to pull at James’s bottoms. “Off,” he ordered, and James shifted his legs to help him get them off. Lying on his back again, flushed and obviously aroused, he enjoyed the wolfish grin on Sirius’s lips, the hunger in his eyes as his cock twitched beneath his own pyjama bottoms. “No pants James? So naughty.”

James laughed and spread his legs further as Sirius’s gaze travelled to his cock. “I never wear pants to sleep. You know that.” He reached down to give himself a few lazy strokes and grinned at Sirius, who licked his bottom lip and bit it, clearly enjoying the view.

“Not at home,” Sirius said, breathless. James felt rather proud of himself. “But here?”

He didn’t give James a chance to reply, simply lay down on his stomach between James’s legs, moved James hand away and swallowed his cock down in one go. Fuck, but Sirius was always so good at this, wet and tight and swirling his tongue over the head as he worked him over, sucking hard on the updraw and soft on the down. James didn’t even try to stop himself thrusting up, cupping Sirius’s head in his hands and pushing him down. Sirius gagged once, then relaxed his throat and let James just fuck his mouth, still using his tongue to caress him as he saw fit.

They kept going for a few minutes as pleasure washed over James in relentless waves until he felt, more than heard, Sirius moan around his cock, and noticed the other man rolling his hips into the floor, clearly trying to get off.

“Enough,” he announced and, rather reluctantly, pushed Sirius off his cock and pulled him up to his eye level.

Sirius raised a dark eyebrow, too dishevelled looking to pull off scepticism. “Yes?”

“Fuck me.”

He laughed at that, deep in his throat, and leaned down to kiss James again, pulling off his bottoms and pants together all the while. James followed the movement when Sirius moved away slightly to conjure up lube, refusing to be away from him and kissing down his throat instead. Sirius sighed and cupped his head, keeping him there as he coated three fingers in lube, most of the rest dripping onto James’s chest. It was a cold shock when it hit his overheated skin, and he drew back with a gasp.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Sirius said, distracting him and distracting him further still when he slid a lube slick finger into him, quickly followed by a second.

“Not as hot as you,” James objected, because Sirius really was the most stunning man alive, but anything else he might have said was cut short when Sirius’s familiar fingers curled expertly, immediately finding his prostate. A bolt of pleasure rushed through James, curling at his core and making his cock twitch.

Sirius laughed at the state of him, his whole world narrowed down to where his fingers were flexing inside him, clutching at Euphemia’s favourite rug beneath him. He continued stretching his hole and stroking his prostate alternately until he finally withdrew, clearly satisfied James could take him. James wrapped his legs around him in anticipation, ready to take him after what felt like hours on the edge, but Sirius only pushed back in with three fingers.

He whimpered Sirius name, a complaint and a desperate plea at once. “Mum and Dad’ll be home soon.”

“S’fine,” Sirius said but with another couple of curls of his fingers, hitting James’s prostate each time, he pulled his fingers out entirely and lined his slick cock up with James hole. He shifted, taking hold of James’s hip with one hand and twining their fingers together with the other and pushed in, devilishly slowly, filling James up entirely.

James had never had sex with anyone else, and as much as he loved fucking Sirius, nothing ever felt as good as this, when he was full of Sirius, gripping onto his back and rolling his hips, Sirius’s cock pulling out and pushing back in with a perfect rhythm and hitting his prostate with every thrust. His hand at Sirius’s back slid down to grasp at his arse again, trying to get him to thrust harder without words.

They fucked like that for a while, hard and slow and delicious until James felt his stomach tighten and reached down to pull at his own dripping cock. Instantly, Sirius replaced his hand with his own, wanking him just how he knew he liked it and within seconds James is spilling himself all over his future husband’s hand, his name on his lips.

“Fuck,” Sirius groaned above him as unconsciously James’s inner muscles tightened around his cock.

Quite finished, James watched as pleasure washed over Sirius pretty face, tightening it, making him bite his lip again. His eyes were squeezed shut as he changed the angle of his hips, deeper, less concerned about James’s prostate, but he opened his mouth when James touched his lips with his come covered fingers anyway. Grinning and growing oversensitive as Sirius kept thrusting into him, over and over and so so good, he just couldn’t take it anymore, he pushed his fingers into Sirius’s mouth and clenched around Sirius at the same time.

That did it, just like he’d hoped it would, and with the taste of James in his mouth, Sirius came deep inside him, his final thrust inside him deep and hard.

He collapsed on top of him, apparently unable to move, and loving the feel of all his weight on him, James ran his fingers through his hair, waiting patiently until he’s got all his breath back.

“We’re gonna have to shower before mum and dad get back. And possibly steal this rug.”

* * *

That afternoon in the walled garden, well within view of the orangery, with birds chirping and the sun shining down on them, James and Sirius were married in front of just twenty guests. James spent the whole thing grinning at his new husband, the expression mirrored on his face, the excitement building in his muscles until the celebrant announced, “You may now kiss,” and he used all that energy to launch himself at his husband, kissing him hard and happy right on the mouth.

Sirius wrapped his arms around his waist tight like he’d known he would, and kissed him back enthusiastically, only breaking away to laugh straight into his mouth. That didn’t stop James, he pressed a cacophony of kisses to the rest of his face, smiling at the delighted laughter coming from his husband and the fond chittering coming from the rest of their guests. He gave him three final kisses, which Sirius half reciprocated through his laughter, and took his hand, leading him to face their guests.

“Congratulations my boys,” Euphemia was the first to say, eyes wet with happy tears, kissing them both on the cheek as they hugged her. “I’m so proud of you both.”

“Best day of my life,” Sirius told her, smacking a wet kiss to James’s temple and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. Warmth flooded James’s belly and he reached up to hold his husband’s hand.

“Best day of mine, Mr. Potter.”

His mum gave them both an affectionate look and patted him on the cheek. “Go speak to your guests. I love you.”

“Love you too Mum,” they said together, and walked off to thank everyone else, happy as could be.

 


	3. Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept on wanting to expand this, but the inspiration never came so I'm posting it instead of sitting on it. All the angst is below the cut, so if you want to skip that, feel free.

On one clear morning, when Voldemort is dead and this is all over, James will reach for Sirius across their bed as he wakes, and Sirius will be there, smiling at him with a happiness James won’t have seen since their wedding day. Sirius will lean over to kiss him until he’s fully awake, keep kissing him until they’re both breathless and dizzy, as in love as they always have been, always will be, forever. They will be bright and free, neither of them will cry over how much they’ve missed each other, about how alone they’ve been, of how they hate being apart. Sirius won’t be paranoid that James has fallen in love with Lily, as if he ever could have, and James won’t be worried Sirius is drinking too much, because he won’t be.

James will kiss Sirius and Sirius will kiss James, and they’ll have slow, lazy morning sex like they won’t have done since Dumbledore told them James would have to marry Lily, and when they’re done they’ll bask in the bliss for hours. James will cook Sirius breakfast – French toast, his favourite – and bring it to him in bed. They’ll eat it together and shower together and get dressed together and go for a walk in the sunshine and nobody will ask James about Lily or Sirius about Regulus or either of them about the War. It will be years done, and no more than a distant reminder of the dangers of having too much power.

A café serving James’s favourite lunch will be open and they’ll stuff themselves with tea and cake and little scones served with clotted cream and jam, and they’ll spend the rest of the afternoon laughing with Remus. They’ll take a ride on the motorbike and find themselves in a forest they’ve never been in before, and a dog and a deer will run wild amongst the trees. They’ll swim in a freshwater pool they find and shag on the banks and fly home again wet and half naked in the night.

James will finally be allowed to love the man he loves without anyone doubting him or questioning him, and nobody will look at Sirius like he’s about to break. James will fall asleep in the garden and Sirius will carry him to bed and they’ll slumber together in a pile of limbs, sharing breath and covers and the space they will have to love each other.

* * *

That day will never come. James will die at the hands of a man he hates without having seen his husband in months with his fake wife screaming in their child’s bedroom. Sirius will break and go to prison for a crime he never commits, and die a wanted man, his godson never knowing the truth. They will never be happy again. They will never get forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Do not ask me what possessed me to write this, I really have no idea. Was it just an excuse to practise writing smut? Maybe. Was it just an excuse to make myself cry? Also maybe.


End file.
